


Mary Puppins

by missdibley



Series: Tom Actually: The Twelve Toms of Christmas [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, bobby hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, London, OFC - Freeform, Snow, Winter, actor!tom, dog park, meet cute, the twelve toms of christmas, tom actually, tom actually: the twelve toms of christmas, twelve toms of christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-15 01:37:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13020519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: Nell’s plan to spend a quiet weekend looking after her sister’s dog and her sister’s house is in question when she meets a charming puppy and his handsome owner.





	1. Friday Night

Nell Downey arrived at her sister Nora’s empty house to find a note on the kitchen counter.

> _Nell  
>  _ _Instructions are same as before (see below). If it snows put on shoes (in basket with lead and poo bags by door). See you Sunday.  
>  _ _Nora_

_Arthur’s instructions:  
_

  * __morning and evening: one level cup of food each time__
  * _meds in a basket on top of piano_
  * _AM: 1 thyroxine (small white pill), 1/2 rimadyl (square brown wafer, split in half if need be), 1 dasequin (in a bag, hard brown chewable)_
  * _PM: 1 thyroxine, 1/2 rimadyl_



Next to the note was an envelope with her own name scrawled on the outside and, tucked inside, five £10 notes.

Arthur sat panting at Nell’s feet, his dark eyes inquisitive and patient. He had not left her side since she had arrived, seemingly blown in along with the snow that had begun to fall, in soft wet flakes, all over town. Nell hadn’t even taken off her coat, and could have used a sit-down and a cuppa after fighting rush hour crowds on the tube to get from her little flat in Earl’s Court to her sister’s house in Chalk Farm. But the dog, a nine year old Blue Heeler/Australian Cattle mix, required a walk.

“Walkie?” Nell asked with a smile. The dog’s tail began to thump against the hard wooden floor, and and it continued to wag as Arthur followed Nell to the front door. He fidgeted but did not resist as Nell put a little rubber shoe on each of his paws, then wiggled enthusiastically as she clasped his harness around his sturdy trunk.

They followed the road as it sloped up towards Primrose Hill, the dog nosing through little piles of snow that had fallen but not yet begun to melt into the pavement. While he dawdled, Nell looked around her. People were making their way, either to home or to the shops, not stopping to ponder the sky as it continued to snow. Runners were careful not to slip, and children caught flakes on their tongues.

It was Friday evening, so Nell had Arthur and the house to herself until Nora returned on Sunday night. She loved her sister dearly, and had a great deal of affection (if not as much passion) for her boyfriend (who stayed at home in Earl’s Court to play video games), but Nell could not deny the pleasure of a big empty house, and a snuffling dog to call her own even if it was temporary.

There was a small clearing in the park, just below the peak of the hill, where dogs were permitted to play off-lead. Once free of their leads, they would burst into a run, tasting freedom, and then sniff and wrestle.

Nell didn’t recognize the dogs as she kept an eye on Arthur in the scrum. They all appeared to be pedigreed and purebred, and so did their owners. They looked nice enough but like most Londoners were not in any hurry to introduce themselves to a stranger.

Arthur took the attention and apparent adoration of the other dogs in stride. While he was no longer a puppy, he still played like one, energized by the presence of so many friends. Nell laughed to herself when he trotted to her, flopping at her feet for a break.

“Tuckered out, old man?” Crouching down, she rubbed his stomach and for her efforts was rewarded with a few sloppy kisses.

Just as she was about to get back up, Nell was knocked back onto her bum by a black cocker spaniel. A puppy, he couldn’t have been older than ten weeks old, and so he yipped and barked shrilly at her before resuming his play with Arthur.

“Bobby! Stop! Bobby!” A man’s voice cut through the air.

If Bobby was indeed his name, the little dog did not heed his master. Instead, he scrambled over and around Arthur, kissing the older dog so frantically it made Nell breathless just to watch them. She was about to separate them when a whistle shrieked in her ear. Cringing, she covered her ears.

“That’s my dog!” The same voice as before, but closer now. The circle of posh owners looked up from their phones but it was not one of them. The voice had come from behind her.

Nell looked up, hearing the soft thud of footsteps as someone ran to her. Just in time to see a handsome man standing over her.

A handsome, if irate, man.

Red in the face, he caught his breath in short, harsh pants. He wore glasses that fogged up quickly, then just as fast cleared up to reveal bright blue eyes. Nell watched the expression on his face change as he understood — that Bobby and Arthur were merely playing and, while Nell had been knocked down by the frenetic show of affection of his own little dog, she appeared to be fine. He smiled fondly at Bobby, who now lolled on the ground next to Arthur, and smiled.

“Erm, sorry about my dog…” He offered his hand to Nell, who regarded it warily. “May I?”

“I’m sorry,” she retorted. “I seem to have lost the ability to hear. Can you say that again?”

The man grimaced, which did nothing to detract from his handsomeness. Nell got a better look when she let him pull her up to her feet. While he wore no gloves, his hands were warm. Nell was sad when he released her.

“The whistle, it’s part of his training.” He nodded at Bobby.

“And how is that training going, then?” Nell asked, daring to tease him with a lighter tone of voice.

The man’s cheeks reddened slightly. “It’s, erm, getting there,” he replied. “Your dog seems rather, erm, relaxed.”

Nell followed his gaze, which was now on Arthur. Arthur, now sufficiently relaxed and adored, stood patiently while Bobby got to his own feet. The two dogs now standing, Bobby sidled up to Arthur, they jogged back into the center to join the rest of the pack.

“Arthur’s nine, and he’s got some hip issues, besides.” Nell shrugged. “He’s not going to object if some young, cute thing wants to make a fuss over him.”

The man’s whistle, which hung from a lanyard around his neck, swung as he turned to face her. He held his hand out. “Tom.”

She nodded. “Nell.”

“Well, Nell.” Tom couldn’t resist grinning to himself. “That rhymed.”

Nell rolled her eyes but said nothing.

“Sorry about Bobby. He’s young.”

“Good thing he’s cute.”

Nell had meant to glance away from Tom, and back at the dogs. But something kept her head still, her chin tilted up, and her eyes fixed on Tom’s face. She was at once overcome with a feeling of mortification, wishing for a hole to swallow her up, or a wind to blow her down the hill. But there was also a flutter in her stomach, the crackle of electricity that sent shivers up her spine.

To his credit, Tom remained calm. Almost impassive. He wouldn’t have thought anything of the remark except for that moment of silence. A beat that his heart skipped, it hung in the air between them. The snow continued to fall and it was darker now and colder too and shouldn’t they — Tom and Bobby, Nell and Arthur — be going somewhere with a fireplace? Someplace the dogs could nap side by side, and Tom and Nell could...

“Tom?” Nell smiled, but her smile was unsure.

“Yes?” He replied.

“Thanks for…” She considered. “The chat. But Arthur and I should be getting home.”

“Do… do you live nearby?” Tom began walking to their dogs, and so Nell followed.

“Um, yeah.” Nell got down on one knee and clipped Arthur’s lead onto his harness again.

“Coffee?” Tom looked abashed. “My treat. Or Bobby’s treat, rather. For knocking you over.”

“Oh, you don’t have to…” Nell started to protest, drawing herself up to her full height.

Tom struck the final, charming blow when he bent down and scooped Bobby into his arms. Holding the puppy at eye level with Nell, his lips tugged up into a lopsided grin. “Please?”

Nell reached out, laughing when Bobby licked at her fingertips. “Bobby, I fear I must decline your generous offer.” She peeked up at Tom, who was watching her closely. Addressing Bobby again, she said “But if Tom wants to buy me coffee to make up for nearly puncturing my ear drums with that whistle, then how could I refuse?”

Tom set Bobby down who, with Arthur at his side, led them down the hill and in the direction of coffee and, hopefully, a little something sweet.


	2. Saturday Morning

“Stupid.”

Arthur looked up from his spot on the kitchen floor and tilted his head as he contemplated Nell.

“Stupid stupid stupid.”

The dog made a whining sound, only stopping when Nell crouched down to scratch under his chin. When he set his chin down upon his crossed paws and closed his eyes, she got back up and took a breath.

Nell stood at her sister’s kitchen island and sulked. She was on the verge of seething but decided against it. Sulking, seething, none of this was a productive use of her time. She would cook her way out of this funk. Cook her way out of her embarrassment and general stupidity. And as she felt the most embarrassment she had ever felt, and was as stupid as she had ever been, Nell had no recourse but to cook her favorite comfort food. She would make chicken adobo, as it was taught to her by her beloved grandmother in the Philippines.

Before she went to fetch a pot to start cooking, Nell went through her ingredients again. They were arranged before her on the counter.

Vegetable oil? Check. Soy sauce? Check. Rice vinegar? Check. Garlic, bay leaves, peppercorns? Check, check, check. Jasmine rice? Duh.

Chicken?

_ Motherfucker… _

Nell looked out the kitchen window, through which she could see a small garden. The previous evening’s white and fluffy snow was now replaced by grey sleet. Arthur had tracked it into the house earlier, after having been let out briefly to do is morning business. It was not a day to be going to the park.

Which was just as well, Nell thought upon waking up. She wasn’t about to go back to the park after she had been humiliated in front of Tom.

* * *

_ “So…” Tom began to say. _

_ “Um…” replied Nell. _

_ The two of them were walking down the hill, having just met when his puppy knocked Nell down to the ground in his efforts to continue playing with her dog. It was clear to Nell, from the way Bobby pranced and basically flung himself at Arthur, that the little dog had a crush on the older shepherd mix. _

_ And who was Arthur to deny himself the pleasure of Bobby’s attention? Bobby was adorable and energetic and, frankly, irresistible. Nell had lost count of the people passing them who oohed and aahed over him. And it must have run in the Hiddleston family, for there were almost as many admiring glances directed at Tom. _

_ Tom, who was all ginger hair and a scruffy beard and eyes bright behind glasses that Nell desperately wanted to try on. His clothes tread that line between casual and sloppy —- pea coat hoodie button down shirt jeans grubby trainers. Cheeks red from the cold air, and the knuckles on his pale, long fingered hands were ruddy, too. Which made Nell think to herself,  _ He must blush all over.

_ “What are you thinking?” Tom asked, leaning in with a grin. _

_ “Huh?” Nell looked around, only realizing they had finally come to a stop. They stood on a quiet corner, just outside a coffee shop. She recognized it, as it was a few houses down then around the corner from her sister’s house. _

_ “Oh!” She exclaimed. _

_ “If I may, I’d still like to treat you to that coffee.” He smiled, and Nell couldn’t help smiling back. _

_ “Sure. But I don’t actually drink coffee,” she explained. _

_ “How do you feel about tea then?” Tom nodded at the shop window. “They do a wonderful latte with Earl Grey.” _

_ “Yeah, that would be great.” Looking at the dogs, who stood shoulder to shoulder at her feet, she considered. “I don’t suppose they allow pups in there, do they?” _

_ “Ah.” Tom followed her gaze. “I don’t think they do.” _

_ “Why don’t I…?” Nell held her hand out to take Bobby’s lead. _

_ Tom handed it over, then squeezed her hand before he let go. “Cheers.” He winked. “Back in a flash.” _

_ Nell stood in the twilight, in a bit of a hazy state. The snow fell, and people went about their business, but she didn’t care. For a handsome man, probably the handsomest man she had ever seen, was buying her tea. And he had squeezed her hand and talked to her and cooed at her dog (okay not really her dog) and for a moment, in the park, she thought he looked as though he might maybe possibly definitely totally have wondered what it might be like to kiss her. _

_ Or at least Nell hoped so, because that’s what she had been thinking. _

_ “Oh my god! Is that Bobby?! My baby! Sweetheart!” All of a sudden Nell found herself assailed by a strange woman, who was all of a sudden squealing over Bobby. _

_ “Um, hello?” Nell asked. _

_ The woman popped up, and cleared her throat. Her blue eyes passed slowly over Nell, indicating disappointment in Nell’s rather ordinary ensemble of black wool coat, jeans, and black ankle boots. They seemed to zero in on the hole in her right woolen mitten. _

_ The woman flicked back a lock of highlighted honey colored hair and smiled, revealing large white teeth. “Jane. I’m a friend of Bobby’s.” She cleared her throat. “And Tom’s.” _

_ “Oh! Of course.” Nell looked down at Bobby, who was now licking Arthur’s face. Nell thought for a second that she was chaperoning a date between the two of them, which made her smile. When she caught Jane glaring at her, her smile faded. “I’m Nell. I guess I’m a friend of Bobby’s, too.” _

_ “You guess?” Jane arched an eyebrow,. _

_ “Well, he and Arthur here are friends, and as I’m Arthur’s… human, I guess we must be, too.” _

_ At this, Jane looked relieved. She said: “It figures. You didn’t look like somebody who’d be friends with Tom.” _

_ Once again, Nell wished for a hole to appear in the ground. Only this time, instead of swallowing her whole, she wanted a host of demons to emerge from it so they could drag this Jane with her Chiclet teeth and her marble bright eyes and her shiny hair down to hell where she clearly belonged. _

_ “Hello?” Tom came out of the coffee shop carrying two grey takeaway cups. Steam rose from the openings in their plastic lids, and for a moment Nell’s face was warm as she inhaled the hot fragrant tea. _

_ “Tom! Hello!” Jane grasped his shoulder, pulling it down so she could kiss his cheek as well as rub her bosom against his arm. “I just saw little Bobby here and I just knew you had to be nearby.” _

_ “Well, Jane, that’s awfully nice of you.” He checked on Bobby, who was now sitting on Tom’s feet. “Jane, may I introduce…” _

_ “Oh,” said Jane, airily. “We’ve met. Your dog walker, am I right?” _

_ Nell froze, and Tom’s mouth thinned. “Actually, she…” _

_ “Yes, Jane. That’s right.” Nell nodded. “I’m a dog walker, and Tom here is a potential client.” _

_ Jane clapped her hands. “Oh how marvelous!” She shot Tom a hopeful look. “So how about that weekend away, hmm?” She simpered. “I think Bobby would be lucky to be left in the capable hands of… Mary Puppins!” _

_ Nell’s face was hot, and it only seemed to burn more intensely when she replayed the events of the afternoon in her mind.  _ I bet Tom is that friendly to everybody, _ she told herself.  _ There wasn’t anything there, not really, and you were stupid to think there was.

_ Clearing her throat, she stepped back from the two of them. Handing Bobby’s lead to Jane, she looked at Tom and shook her head. “On second thought, I’m not accepting new clients.” She glanced at Jane, who was doing a poor job of suppressing a triumphant smirk. “It was nice meeting you, Tom. Good luck with your search.” _

_ Arthur did not resist as Nell led him away, around the corner and up a few houses back home. In fact, he was insistent upon his kisses, which was such a help as it was the fastest way to clean up her tears. _

* * *

In the morning, Nell felt foolish and stupid and immature and dramatic and stupid and bratty and stupid again. She was 37, for fucks’ sake, and could have easily summoned the composure to correct Jane, issue some pithy retort, then resumed her… whatever with Tom.

It wasn’t a whatever, it was a nothing. Just two people walking along, their hands occasionally bumping against each other as they held onto their dogs’ leads. Making small talk, dumb jokes. Nothing flirtatious, especially as Nell remembered her boyfriend and Tom had his… Jane.

Arthur, now standing on his four feet, reminded her that he was there. “Woof.”

“Yes, yes,” said Nell with a sigh. “I’m stupid.”

Arthur gave Nell quite a distinct side eye, then huffed.

“Oh fine,” Nell recalled. “Maybe I'm not stupid but I am in need of chicken. I can’t make  _ adobong manok _ without the  _ manok _ , now can I?’

Arthur turned his back to her, then shuffled down the hall to the front door to stand under the basket where his lead was coiled and ready for her to clip to his harness. Over his harness she put a tartan jacket, which matched his little rubber shoes.

The market wasn’t so far but the sleet and her mood made the walk tedious. She couldn’t bring Arthur into the store with her but, as he was dressed and there was a large awning under which he could wait, Nell made sure to be quick. Holding her chicken, as well as some items from the bakery aisle to make pudding, she wished her fellow shoppers had been so conscientious. But they all wanted to pay in exact change, counting out coins and crumpled bills, or they insisted on buying stamps at the grocery till instead of the Royal Mail counter a few feet away.

By the time Nell was finished with her shopping, she just wanted to march home, then cook and eat her feelings into oblivion.

If only the universe had felt the same. For there, standing with Arthur under the awning, was his little friend Bobby. And holding Bobby’s lead was Tom.

“You can’t just stand there forever,” Tom called out to Nell as she stood there, keeping the sliding doors open.

“Can’t I, though?” Nell said. She walked forward and accepted Arthur’s lead from Tom.

“Hey,” said Tom.

“Hi.”

“About yesterday…” “I shouldn’t have…”

They both stopped, then paused. Tom looked at her bag. “What’s that?”

“A bag.”

Tom quirked an eyebrow at her. “A bag…”

“Chicken,” sighed Nell. “Chicken thighs and legs. And some stuff to make brownies.”

“Brownies?” Tom perked up. “I like brownies.”

“So do I,” replied Nell. “That’s why I’m making them for lunch.”

“Great, let’s go!” Tom walked out from beneath the awning, and happened to start walking in the direction of her sister’s house.

Nell caught up, panting a little from the effort of wrangling Arthur and her purchases. “You can’t come to mine for lunch.”

“Why not?”

“We’re strangers. I don’t know you. You could be an axe murderer.”

“I could be,” replied Tom. “But I’m not.”

“I could be an axe murderer,” Nell mused.

“But you’re not.”

“How do you know?” Nell asked, a touch more playful than she’d intended.

“You’re Mary Puppins,” Tom deadpanned. When Nell stopped dead in her tracks, so did he. He winced. “Too soon?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Am I still invited to lunch?”

Nell frowned. “I never invited you to lunch.”

“Arthur invited me,” Tom said. “When we were outside the market.”

“Of course he did.”

Nell took a deep, cleansing breath. The air was getting colder and there was sleet and all she needed was to get home and cook and maybe that would let her feel less stupid.

Or maybe not.


	3. Saturday Night, and Sunday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby and Arthur chaperone a playdate between their respective humans, actor and man about town Tom Hiddleston and shopkeeper Nell Downey.

Nell sort of dawdled on the walk from the market, watching Tom as he was steered, this way and then that by Arthur and Bobby as the dogs sniffed bushes, lifted their legs against trees, and played as though they weren’t trudging along in cold, wet sleet. Every so often, Tom would look back over his shoulder at her. But she didn’t hurry to catch up to him, though it was so cold and getting colder every minute.

The wind was up, and it whistled in Nell’s ears. It made a strange sort of accompaniment to the sound of her blood rushing about in her head. Her heart thumped away in her chest.

And why was her body reacting so?  _ Because you like him, you dummy, _ she thought to herself.  _ You like him and, despite the attentions of his busty, bitchy friend from last night, he seems to like you, too. Or at the very least, he likes Arthur, because who wouldn’t like Arthur, and Bobby, being a puppy, is probably in need of some friends in the neighborhood. _

Arthur, true to his shepherd lineage, got Bobby and Tom to the little gate of her sister’s house without any guidance from Nell. He leaned against Nell’s leg as she lifted the latch, then sprinted ahead and up the steps once the gate had swung open. Once she was at the front door, Tom hovered over her. Nell found that she liked it, the closeness and even feeling crowded by him. The feeling of him standing there, right by her side, was good. He was warm and handsome and tall and handsome and reassuring and very very handsome.

“Well,” she said, unlocking and opening the door. “Here we are.”

Tom followed Nell in, pausing to scrape and clean the soles of his boots against the doormat. Still holding onto the leads, he seemed surprised when Nell took them.

“Take off your shoes. You can leave them on the mat.” She indicated a row of iron hooks on the wall. “Coat goes there.”

Tom felt a little awkward, standing so close in the vestibule of her house, but it gave him a moment to catch his breath. Almost without thinking he clapped a hand onto Nell’s shoulder, steadying himself as he stood on one foot and then the other as he removed his boots.

She seemed to relieve the dogs of their leads, get her own shoes and coat off, remove Arthur’s own jacket and shoes, and get the chicken into the kitchen in a few, efficient moves.

“Nice place,” Tom said as he followed Nell into the kitchen. He smiled, noting that, unlike the sparsely furnished lounge, the kitchen was fully set up. Coffee maker, mixer, and small appliances lined butcher block countertops, and the island in the middle was clean. Upon its surface were some spices and other ingredients.

“Here,” said Nell. She pushed a square baking pan at him. “You’re on brownie duty.”

Tom took the pan, which contained ingredients: two squares of butter and a stick of chocolate; sugar, flour and salt, measured into their own bowls. A small packet of walnut pieces, a small bottle of vanilla extract, and two eggs.

“Are you going to…?” Tom looked up at Nell questioningly. When he did, she handed him a saucepan, a mixing bowl, and a spatula.

“Hob’s over there,” she indicated the stove. “I’ll talk you through it.”

“Nell?” Tom placed his hand flat on the countertop, right next to where Nell had set a small cutting board.

“Yeah?” She looked up, her still damp hair now tucked neatly behind her ears. “Oh goodness, I didn’t even offer you a towel for your hair.”

Tom shook his head. “No, need. It should dry pretty quick.”

“Okay,” she replied.

“Are you…” Tom paused to take a breath. “Are you mad at me?”

Biting her lip, Nell examined his face. “Why would I be mad?”

“Jane,” said Tom, flatly. “She’s normally nice, lovely even, but sometimes she comes off a bit strong when I introduce her to other people.”

“Other people?” Nell permitted herself a tiny smile. “Or other women?”

Tom blushed, then stammered: “Wha-- what must you think of me, then? A friend like that…”

“With friends like that…” Nell began to say.

“Who needs dog walkers?” Tom smiled tentatively.

Nell froze, just for a moment, then promptly began to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. “Oh my…” She wiped her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Tom asked. “It wasn’t  _ that _ funny…”

“No! I know it wasn’t. It’s just…” Nell placed her hand over his. “Thanks for that. I just… needed to get out of my head. And I need to apologize for yesterday. I shouldn’t have run off like that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” replied Tom, crisply. He turned towards the stove, setting the saucepan on top. He looked at Nell over his shoulder.

“No,” she repeated. “I shouldn’t have.”

“Because if you hadn’t,” said Tom with a smile. “I would have asked you out then, instead of waiting out in the sleet for you this morning.”

“But you didn’t ask me out.” Nell looked up. “You invited yourself over for lunch.”

“Fine,” Tom replied. “Nell, would you like to have lunch?”

“Sure.” Nell picked up a few cloves of garlic and placed them on the cutting board. “What are we having?”

“Well, brownies, obviously.” Tom held up the chocolate, then eyed the chicken. “And…?”

“Chicken adobo,” replied Nell.

“I know how to make that?” Tom asked, clearly delighted.

“Oh yes, you’re famous for it.” Nell took up her chef’s knife and, lying it flat across the board, used it to smash the garlic cloves. “You got it from your mother, who got it from her grandmother back in the Philippines.”

“Of course.” Tom made a small bow. “Shall we?’

“Yes,” said Nell, drily. “Let’s.” She set the garlic aside and considered the chicken.

“Nell?” Tom asked.

“Yeah?” She looked up at Tom, who was now holding the butter.

“How do I make brownies?”

Nell smiled, then wiped her hands on a damp paper towel. “Just a tick,” she said. “I’ll show you.”

* * *

When the time came, they ate their lunch at the island, sitting side by side on rickety vintage stools. The dogs begged for bits of chicken, and were duly rewarded with morsels fed to them by Tom.

“I’m having trouble feeding them this chicken,” said Tom, watching as Nell began to cut some brownies from the pan.

“Why is that?”

“I want it all for myself, it’s so good,” Tom declared. “So unbelievably tender, and that piquant flavour. Delectable.”

“Thanks,” said Nell. “But we’ve got leftovers. I’ll pack them up for you.”

“And later when I go to bed, Bobby’s going to crawl in with me…”

“Spoiled,” said Nell, looking at Bobby with approval.

“And he’ll breathe garlic and vinegar in my face all night.” Tom pulled a face, which made Nell laugh.

“Well, let’s see if I can do something about that,” Nell pledged.

Nell produced a pint of heavy cream from the refrigerator, and found a hand mixer in the cupboards. Pouring the cream into the bowl, she whipped it until it was frothy and light. After putting dollops on the brownies for herself and for Tom, she put the rest of it into two bowls which she set on the floor for the dogs.

The dogs, who had been put off by the sound of the beaters, instantly fell upon their treats. They made an adorable sight, snouts covered in cream which they then cleaned up with kisses. Tom and Nell had their coffee and dessert in the lounge, where gas fireplace was keeping the house warm.

“This is your sister’s house?” Tom asked. “And Arthur is her dog?”

“That’s right.” She looked smiled at Arthur, who resumed his usual spot in front of the fire. “We grew up in Earl’s Court. She bought the place when our parents retired back to the old country a few years ago.”

“A few years ago?” Tom frowned. “This place looks brand new.”

“She travels a bunch for work. She’s a consultant, something to do with healthcare or pharmaceutical.” Nell shrugged. “And she loves it, so the house is more like a good investment.”

“And you?” Tom asked. “Do you live nearby?”

“No, I’m still in the old neighborhood. I bought my parents’ grocery store, and the building in which it is housed, when they left. There’s a little flat above it.”

“I’m impressed,” said Tom. “Business owner.” He grinned. “Community leader.”

Nell tried not to look pleased. She put down her mug, then stretched, arching her back this way and then that. She was starting to feel a little sleepy.

“Well, what about you?” She asked.

“What about me?”

“You get to travel all over the world, making movies, winning awards.”

“Ah.” Tom set down his mug. “So you know…”

“Yes, I recognized you when we met.” Nell said, sounding a little apologetic.

“And yet you let me prattle on about my work,” said Tom, just a little embarrassed.

“Well, of course, I did.” Nell said. “I recognized you when we met, but…” She bit her lip. “I figured it would be better if you told me who you were. As…” She waved her hands in the air. “A neighbour.”

“Yes, a neighbour…”

“Who just happens to have a very glamorous job.”

“It’s not glamorous, I assure you.” Tom stared into his coffee cup.

“Glad to have met you, Neighbour Tom,” Nell said. Her lips quirked into a grin, and she offered her hand to him to shake.

Tom accepted it, not shaking but simply examining it. Her hand was small, and on her side of her palm there was still a smudge of brownie batter. He turned her hand gently, and showed it to her. “Look,” he said. “Chocolate.”

Before Nell could take her hand back, clean it off with a napkin, she froze as Tom gently pressed his lips to the spot. She felt the pressure of his lips as he sucked, the wet flick of his tongue, and then the nip of his teeth.

“Sorry,” Tom whispered. “I don’t know why I just…”

“It’s oh- okay,” Nell stammered.

She held her breath when Tom let go, then brought his hand up to her face. Brushed her fingers over her jaw. Just as she began to wonder — would he pull her in, or should she lean forward? — her phone rang.

“Shit.” She fumbled for it, and panicked slightly when she saw it was her boyfriend.

“Gareth,” she said, disappointed and guilty. “Hi.”

Tom watched her, wondering who was Gareth and cursing his timing. The fireplace had been lit, so Bobby and Arthur curled up in front of it, napping in a large, worn dog bed. He thought a nap seemed like a good idea. He allowed himself the thought that a nap with Nell, just snuggled up in a large warm bed, was a better one.

“Everything okay?” Tom asked when Nell set the phone down.

“That was Gareth, my boyfriend,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

“Oh.”  And now Tom was mortified. The bit with her hand.  _ Ugh. _ Nothing like a little flirtation to keep his skills up while he remained single, but perhaps he’d gone too far? He chanced a look at Nell’s face, finding that he could not read her blank expression.

_ Of course she has a boyfriend, _ Tom thought. Nobody who could cook like that, or was unassumingly adorable as she was, and so easy to chat to.  _ Gareth is a lucky man. _

Nell couldn’t hear anything in that “Oh.” She was still consumed by feelings of plain badness. She was flirting with a handsome and down-to-earth man when she already had a steady boyfriend at home. A boyfriend who was nice enough to call.

_ But not nice enough, _ said the imaginary devil on her shoulder,  _ to spend the weekend cuddling with you, keep you warm. Not when there are video games to be played and loads of hash to smoke. _

_ But I… _ , replied Nell in her head.

_ And there are always video games, aren’t there? _

_ That’s no reason to stray… _

_ No reason to stay, either. _

Nell shook her head, steadied herself by looking at Tom. “Yeah, he said it was really icy outside and…”

Before she could continue, the room was plunged into darkness. The refrigerator in the kitchen stopped whirring, and the dishwasher ended it’s cycle. The fire in the fireplace and the heat, being radiant, remained.

“Yes, Gareth rang to say… storms knocking out power in parts of town.”

“Parts of town,” echoed Tom. “Like this one?” He chuckled.

“Lucky us,” Nell replied. “Are you far? You should probably go home and check.”

“Yes,” said Tom, wistfully. “I suppose I should.”

The room wasn’t entirely dark, so they were able to fumble up to the front door. Tom laced up his boots and put on his coat while Nell put on Bobby’s harness.

Before opening the door, Nell smiled up at Tom. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “That was nice.”

And then they kissed.

When Tom ducked down, Nell left her eyes open, just for a moment. She wanted to see everything as it was happening. Because who knew if anything like would ever happen again?

She took in his long lashes, the individual hairs in his gingery scruff, and how pale his skin was. And then she closed her eyes, noticing but not caring that his lips felt papery and dry. He was warm, radiating heat right by the door, where what little draft there was had already begun to make her toes stiff with cold.

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, which was hardly just a kiss, more of a brushing of lips between two new friends who, try as they might to deny it, were clearly interested in more. Nell looked down, so he couldn’t see her disappointment. But he wanted to see her face. She opened the door, and they looked out into the street.

The wind that had whistled them home now howled. The sleet was icier and fell harder, making sharp  _ pock _ sounds as it hit the pavement. At Tom’s feet, Bobby leapt up, seeking the warmth and comfort of his master’s arms. Before he could pick the dog up and carry him into the storm, Nell pushed past him and shut the door.

“No,” she said firmly. “You’re not going out in that.” She scratched under Bobby’s chin, laughing to herself when he kissed her fingertips.

“Right,” said Tom. “Wet. Freezing. Did you see that ice?”

“It’s dangerous,” Nell said. “C’mere, Bobby. Let’s put you by the fire.”

Bobby, once free of his lead, scampered back to his place in Arthur’s bed, curled up against his new friend’s side. Nell showed Tom a flap in the kitchen door.

“If they have to go, we can show them that. And there’s a bit of covered patch in the garden, so they won’t get wet when they do.”

“Quite clever,” said Tom, softly.

Nell shivered, even though she wasn’t cold. “I should call Gareth, tell him we’re alright.”

“We?” Tom asked.

“Okay, just me, I guess.” Nell winced, embarrassed. “Listen, I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of cheater.”

“Of course not,” said Tom. “We’re just friends.”

“Right.” Nell replied. “Friends.”

Returning to the lounge, Tom just behind her, Nell stared at the television. “We could watch telly except…”

“No power,” replied Tom, standing at her side. “Battery powered radio? They’re useful in emergencies.”

Nell looked up, and was grateful to see the tentative, almost shy look on his face. “Is this an emergency?”

Tom shrugged, then a look of inspiration brightened his face. “Maybe if we check…” He showed her his phone.

“Twitter, or Facebook,” muttered Nell, already looking at her own mobile. A few taps and: “Ah, a notice on Facebook. Power should be restored to all areas by midnight. In case of emergency call 999.”

“So what shall we do?” Tom asked.

“Talk,” replied Nell. “Just…” Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. “Fuck it.”

With a rush, Nell went up on her toes, and reached for Tom. Her arms wrapped him at the neck, and then his arms went around her waist. They held each other close. The fireplace was still going, and the radiators rattled as they produced heat for the little house. But there was a chill in the air, and the only way to dispel it was to stand close. Stand close, be still, and breathe.

There was nothing seductive or even cute about the way Nell fell back onto the couch. She bumped her head on the padded arm, and was consoled when, gracefully lowering himself onto her, Tom gently rubbed the back of her head, all the while whispering in her ear.

“Are you dizzy? Headache?” When Nell wordlessly shook her head, Tom grunted with approval. “Just the same, i should do an examination.”

Tom kissed her ear, then her temple, and then her cheek. She turned to face him, looking in his eyes for something. As if she might be able to detect indifference or vanity or charity in him. Anything that might explain what he was doing on top of her.

But then he licked his lips. And when Nell inhaled, he kissed her. He took advantage of her parted lips and licked inside, tentatively. One, or perhaps both, of them moaned, she did not know. Nell knew nothing. She simply tasted, and could not get enough of his hot wet mouth. His slick, nimble tongue. His breaths were sharp, and then his kisses were stronger. She hadn’t been kissed like this in a long time. Gareth had never kissed her like this.

Tom was literally taking her breath away.

“Tom…” she moaned, breaking the kiss as she turned her head. Instead of stopping, Tom merely began to suck on the base of her neck.

“Oh Tom…”

“Wha?” He lifted his head, eyelids heavy and a sleepy grin on his face. “Yes?”

“The dogs,” she said feebly. “We should…”

Tom looked towards the fireplace, where Arthur and Bobby slept, clasped in a close embrace. “They’re good.”

“Oh.”

“They’ve rather got the right idea,” murmured Tom, leaning in to kiss her again.

“They’re just friends, Tom,” said Nell, trying not to laugh.

“Just like…” Tom kissed her cheek. “Us.”

And he kissed her again, seeking her lips with his again. “You taste like coffee, Nell.”

“Not garlic? Vinegar?” She blinked at him. “Chicken?”

“Very funny,” he muttered into her skin.

It was close, the way they kissed, profoundly close. Achingly close. Making their own heat there, by the light of the fire while outside the storm kept on. Nell running her fingers through his hair, and then her hands were pinned back by her head. Tom held her wrists, nuzzling her face even while he chased her sweet mouth over and over again.

Everytime she let slip a peal of laughter, Tom was there to kiss her. There in the dark, his senses were satisfied. Spoiled, for when she kissed him back, he tasted her deeply. When she moaned in his ear, Tom shivered. When he opened his eyes, there she was meeting his gaze.

And when it came to touching…

Tom became aware that, still wearing a wool jumper over a thin but warm silk undershirt, he was perspiring. He was already warm but kissing and hugging and touching and  _ moving _ against a soft, warm girl with dark hair who returned every physical overture with one of her own? He felt like like drowning, and he relished it.

Still kissing and still hugging, Nell slid a hand down his solid chest to the waistband of his jeans. It was there that she touched his bare skin, digging the nails in when he rewarded her progress with a particularly slow, filthy kiss.

Thus rewarded, Nell allowed herself the prize of stroking his abdomen, letting her fingertips trace circles just below his navel. It almost tickled, and Tom would have laughed except he was desperate. He wanted her to touch him. It didn’t matter where, he just wanted to be held like that. Not consolingly, or out of comfort. Desire, plain and simple.

When she began to tug up at the hem of his jumper, Tom sat back, sorry for the loss of her touch, and in one move relieved himself of his jumper and undershirt. Before he sank bank onto Nell, she stopped him. She set her hand on his chest and said “Wait.”

And so he did, though not without a touch of impatience. Tom would say that, as a lover, he tended towards eagerness. It was preferable to awkwardness, typical of a first encounter with someone new. He slowed his breathing, then remembered to ask. “Are you alright?”

Nell smiled, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Are you sure? Tom asked.

In reply Nell sat up and pulled off her sweatshirt. She lay back, trailing her finger between her breasts, indicating the clasp of her bra.

“Yeah,” she said. ‘I’m…”

Tom pounced, laughing as he kissed her again. Leaning to one side, he fiddled with the clasp until it came undone. One cup fell to the side, exposing a breast with a hard, dusky nipple. He looked down as he cupped the breast in his hand, and heard Nell gasp when he brushed his thumb against the tip.

He eased himself down, running his hands down from her neck to her chest and following their path with kisses. He massaged her breasts, marveling at how soft they were. Soft all over except for the nipples which, with nary a warning to Nell, he began to lick and suck.

Tom listened as he tasted, taking delight in the way her moans grew breathier. When he teased her, flicking over and around one nipple with his tongue while nipping and sucking at the other, Nell squeaked. Her fingers, which had been gently combing through his hair, dug into his scalp.

“Brat,” Tom whispered in her ear, having pushed himself back up to face her. She just smiled. He hugged her tight, luxuriating in the softness of her skin, and her hair when it tickled his nose. She was kissing him now, turning her head up towards his throat, the crook of his neck where she sucked hard enough to leave a slight bruise.

Tom grunted, then rolled his hips.

Nell sucked harder, and shifted her body beneath him. She could taste the salt of his skin, and she was hungry all over again. Clinging to him, it still wasn’t enough. Nell’s hips loosened, her legs parted, but she only felt relief when he settled between them.

Tom sought purchase, but his legs felt leaden, the muscles tight. The fire burned no hotter but a heat settled upon him. It relaxed him, but as it did he felt encumbered by what clothing he still wore.

It was Nell who had started it, muttering “S’hot” as she pushed off her own jeans and knickers. In the dark, as he struggled to follow her lead. Jeans, boxers, socks. Each fell off him, tumbled into a little pile on the floor.

And then he felt her. All of her. Again there were the soft, supple breasts. Perfect mouthfuls, and to demonstrate he sucked upon them slowly. A soft, pot tummy which, instead of inspiring further tenderness, tempted Tom into biting lightly into the flesh.

“Delicious,” he sighed, looking up at her. Nell’s face, soft and sweet before, was dreamy in the light of the fire.

Tom nuzzled down her hip, then just inside her thigh. He closed his eyes, inhaling the musk of her sex. Resting one of her thighs on his shoulder, Tom opened his eyes and brought his hand to rest over her mound. Hair wiry but still so farm, the skin soft against the back of his hand. He was aware of his own breath, heavy and wanting as he panted, but Tom pretended not to hear her when she asked him to touch her there. He lay there, lightly running his hand up and down her thigh. She rasped “Please”, and then he began to rub his thumb against her clit.

The scent of her arousal was stronger when he teased her further. Slipping a finger just inside, then back out so he could trace her. The pressure of his thumb on her clit was steady, building pressure that he did not relieve by going faster. Her hands in his hair tightened, and Nell urged him on. “Yes. Oh, yes. Please. More.” But he refused her entreaties, simply circling that bud and slipping a finger inside, just a little. Prolong the torture until she gave him what he wanted.

He wanted her, breathless and helpless and uncaring. Unaware of nothing but him, lying between her legs. His breaths, hot and quick, promising the favour of his gifted tongue. And then at last Nell was reduced to sighs that sounded like sobs, swallowing air as she tried but failed to form words. The words “yes” and “more” and “god” died, and it was only then that Tom tasted her.

He sucked her clit between his lips, taking his time while within his mouth his tongue teased with quick, feather-light swipes. She was close, closer than he’d previously thought, for she wanted to bring her thighs together around his head. Already Nell was pushing up with her hips, yielding to the demands of his desire.

Eros and hunger and need and yes that goddamn heat. Where at first there was a spark was fanned by the opportunity presented to two attractive people with more than a little chemistry, there was eventually a fire fed by a certain disregard for whoever or whatever was waiting for them outside of this house. The fire sustained, keeping them close cozy, and so in turn it consumed them. Who were they to keep it from burning? That’s what fires did. That’s what people do. They made heat and light against the advancing of the long, dark night.

But back to the sex.

Tom’s hands kept her legs parted to him, resting on her inner thighs while between them he continued his ministrations. His tongue making way inside her, licking slowly and deeply before it was replaced by his fingers pumping. He found a tender spot, the tenderest spot, with his fingertips. Nell cried out, sustaining the sound into a long moan when Tom once again turned his attention to her clit. He rested his free hand on her belly, and he smiled when she grabbed onto it.

Tom anchored her that way, grounding her while with his quick fingers and his talented mouth he pushed her further, higher, and when she closed her eyes the feeling of being consumed came not from the heat but from him and him alone. It was selfish and lazy but all she could do was lie back and succumb to his most voracious attentions.

Tom let go of her hand, grabbed onto her hip, and lost himself. The rush of blood in his body was everywhere but most insistently in his cock and in his ears. Salt and sweet, longing and heat. He was gasping for breath the longer and harder he sucked, but there was no stopping. Not when she was writhing for him, trying but failing to say his name and then… stillness. Trapped between her thighs, he kept his mouth and his fingers in place even as she came. He remained rode it out with her, and stayed connected.

The fire crackled, and the wind howled. The dogs, unaware of anything outside of the comfort of their bed as they slept, didn’t notice Tom slowly pushing himself up. They didn’t hear Tom help Nell to her feet, or the sound of the newly minted lovers laughing to themselves as they made their way upstairs to freshen up, find the guest room, and take a well-deserved nap.

* * *

At 12:03 am on Sunday morning, the power came back on.

Midnight found Nell in bed, naked but for an old vest and knickers. From where she lay, she thought she could hear the appliances in the kitchen whir back to life. She was about to go and check when she heard scuffling sounds outside her door.

Nell sat up just in time to see Arthur, followed by Bobby, leap on top of the bed. Their fur was cold, as they had just been out into the garden to do their business by Tom. Tom slipped in behind, messily throwing his clothes off until he was dressed only in boxers and socks. He dove under the covers and grabbed Nell around the waist.

“I restarted the dishwasher,” he murmured into her hair.

“You’re so domestic,” Nell teased. “You cook, you clean.” She squinted at Bobby, who was licking Arthur’s ears. “You have this adorable dog.”

Tom pulled her even closer. “And I cuddle.”

“And you cuddle,” she repeated. “And you go down a girl on the first date.”

“I’m a gentleman,” Tom said with mock seriousness. “A catch.”

“Yeah,” Nell said, with actual seriousness. She turned to look at him. “You are.”

Tom blushed under her warm gaze. “Well, that’s what my mother says.”

“You’re going to make some lucky girl a wonderful husband,” she said, wistfully.

“Perhaps,” Tom mused. “It depends.”

“Depends on what?” Nell asked.

“If Bobby doesn’t like her,” said Tom. “If he doesn’t absolutely love her, forget it.”

“Very good,” Nell said, yawning. “Good night, Tom.”

“Good night, Nell.” Tom paused. “Erm, it is alright that I’m sleeping over, right?”

Nell nodded. “Makes no difference to me,” she said languidly. “It’s Arthur who wouldn’t be able to… hey!”

Nell began to squeal with delight, as Tom began to tickle her. The dogs got to their feet, scampering around on the floor before hopping up on the bed, this time at the head, to slobber all over them affectionately. When the dogs settled down again, Arthur took Nell’s pillow while Bobby, who was considerably smaller, found himself a prized spot at her side and fell asleep with his little wet nose resting on her bare shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recipes!
> 
> Katharine Hepburn's brownies: <https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/10782-katharine-hepburns-brownies>
> 
> Chicken adobo:
> 
> Burnt Lumpia: <http://burntlumpiablog.com/2007/05/chicken_adobo_y.html>
> 
> Amy Besa via Sam Sifton: <https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1013419-chicken-adobo>


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